


Watching Over Dean

by SeverEstHolmes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Castiel, Caring!Cas, Graphic Depicitions of Illness, Human Castiel, Illnesses, Other, Sick Dean Winchester, Sick! Dean, Sickfic, Sickness, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverEstHolmes/pseuds/SeverEstHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel looks after Dean when he's having a rough night.<br/>Short, sickfic - enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching Over Dean

            A crack like a gunshot jolted the ex-angel from his sleep; Cas was curled under the slightly off white colour duvet that had been provided by the motel. For a few seconds, Cas blinked and looked around: getting accustomed to sleeping and the disorientation that surrounded waking up, it still was new to him. But the grogginess that cloaked Cas as he pushed himself upright on the bed lifted suddenly. Across the dimly lit room Cas could see the white sheets glowing in the dark and the outline of the sleeping Sam on the furthest away bed. The bed next to Cas’, which was Dean’s, was empty – Cas’ eyes felt heavy, he rubbed them uncoordinatedly with his hand. Where had Dean got to?  The sky outside the windows that was visible through the small net curtains was still pitch black; so it seemed to Cas like it must still be before dawn, which meant that he hadn’t been asleep for very long… But that still didn’t explain where Dean was… or the noise that had woken him up; it had been a loud bang, perhaps it had been the door? Stifling a yawn, Castiel swung his legs round off the edge of the bed; should he wake up Sam? If Dean was missing then surely Sam should know, but it was the middle of the night – and it had been a long day, Cas wasn’t sure that Sam would appreciate being woken up so shortly after they had gone to bed. Cas glanced around, wondering where Dean could have got to – and a small sliver of light caught his eye. The light in the motel bathroom was on, perhaps Dean was just in the bathroom, but if that was the case then he had been in quite a long time…

            Very slowly, and slightly reluctantly, Cas stood up from his bed, being careful not to make too much noise and disturb Sam, who was now snoring gently, he tiptoed across the room to the bathroom door. After a few seconds listening, he raised his hand and tapped lightly on the door:

            “Dean?” He whispered, not sure that Dean would be able to hear him through it, but he wanted some response to assure himself that Dean was in there. Remaining very still and listening even more intently, he perceived a very small groan from inside the bathroom. Making up his mind in a decisive moment, Cas turned the door handle and opened the bathroom door.

            The scene which presented itself to Cas was not the one he expected… Dean was on his knees on the bathroom floor; one hand propped on the ground, the other arm resting flat on the edge of the toilet seat on which his head was supported by. His face was a pale grey colour and he was visibly shaking.

            “Dean?” Cas uttered suddenly, letting the bathroom door swing shut and almost falling to his knees next to Dean. “Dean, what’s wrong?” He asked breathlessly, putting his hand on Dean’s, but Dean drew away. He raised his head a little and looked at Cas; his eyes were glazed and unfocused, but he still seemed to recognise Cas.

            “Cas…” His voice was weak and shaky. “You – you should be asleep… go back to bed.” He was trying to sound firm, but the words weren’t coming out like that.

            “I woke up and wondered where you were…” Cas explained, “What’s wrong? You look strange…” Dean snorted briefly, but he didn’t smirk as he usually did when Cas didn’t understand something.

            “It’s alright… go back to bed.” He repeated; but he didn’t _look_ alright, in face he looked decidedly worse by the passing seconds. Dean had begun rocking slightly on his knees, as though attempting to make himself comfortable but being unable to do so.

            “No.” Cas refused, “Something’s wrong – do you want me to get Sam?” He questioned, surely Sam would know what to do.

            “No!” Dean protested instantly, “Let him sleep – you should too…”

            “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on!” Cas disagreed, feeling decidedly awkward – Dean always helped him whenever he needed it, especially since he had become human… he wanted to return the favour.

            “Nothing… nothing’s going on Cas.” Dean answered, closing his eyes, his forehead was still rested on his forearm and he was moving slightly more now. “I – I just don’t feel so good right now…”

            “How do you mean?” Cas inquired, Dean wasn’t injured so that couldn’t be the cause of anything.

            “I think… I think I’m sick or something…” Dean replied eventually.

            “Oh…” Cas breathed; he understood the concept of sickness, but was unfamiliar with what exactly it caused. “I _should_ get Sam then!”

            “No… I can cope.” Dean argued, yet the colour of his face didn’t promote confidence. “I just need to stay here for a bit… then it’ll be alright.”

            “Are you sure?” Cas asked nervously, he wasn’t sure how he could help in this situation.

            “Yeah…” Dean breathed, “Go… you don’t need to stay.”

            “But I want to – I want to make sure you’re alright.” Cas murmured quietly.

            “”I… Cas, I don’t want you to see me like this… it’s not pretty.” Dean raised his head from his arm momentarily.

            “I’m sure I’ve seen worse.” Cas commented; Dean let out a small moan, bending over further and moving the hand that was propping him up to his lower abdomen.

            “Cas… I don’t want to argue with you…” Dean growled lowly.

            “Then don’t!” Cas answered simply, “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re going to be alright!” Dean didn’t respond, he shut his eyes again and resumed the slight rocking of his body. After a few seconds, Cas began to feel helpless, he wasn’t sure what to do – or if there was anything he _could_ do to help Dean. He didn’t fully understand how Dean was feeling, but he certainly didn’t want to do anything that would make him feel worse. The bathroom was so quiet that Cas could hear the buzz which was emitted from the light; and he could hear a low growling noise – which seemed to be coming from Dean’s stomach. “Dean, is that you making that noise?” He asked in surprise, Dean groaned slightly and gave a curt nod of the head. “Why is your stomach making that noise?”

            “Urgh… cause it hates me…” Dean moaned, he coughed and spat into the toilet. “Really Cas, you should go back to bed…” Dean repeated, Cas could see him swallowing rapidly.

            “I’m not going back to bed Dean!” Cas argued for what seemed like the millionth time. “Dean, I fought into hell to raise you out – I don’t think anything I could see on this earth would be worse than what I saw there!” Cas told him very firmly. “If you’re sick you need someone to make sure nothing bad happens to you, and right now that’s me!” Dean looked up at Cas; despite the pallor of his face and the sweat beading across his forehead, he looked rather pleased that Cas wasn’t leaving. That expression didn’t last for long though, his Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down in his throat as he swallowed.

            “God I feel like hell…” Dean murmured, and was surprised when Cas didn’t tell him off for his blasphemy.

            “What does it feel like?” Cas asked, rather interested in understanding what Dean was experiencing.           

            “Like my insides are rebelling against me.” Dean replied, swallowing with what appeared to be some difficulty.

            “Does it hurt?” Cas inquired softly; if he had still had his powers then he would have been able to take any pain away from Dean… but he couldn’t do that now.

            “Not hurt…” Dean grunted, “More uncomfortable…” Dean had dropped his head again and was massaging his stomach with his hand. “It’s not something you’d want to experience…” Suddenly Dean jerked forwards, his body convulsing against his will, but he seemed to fight against the force trying to overpower him; he was swallowing even more fiercely and he let out another groan. “Oh god…” He spat into the toilet bowl again, “Oh I just want to sleep…” Dean ran a hand across his sweat covered face.

            “What would make you feel sick like this?” Cas asked, wondering why Dean had ended up like he was now.

            “I must have eaten something dodgy or something…” He complained bitterly, “Otherwise you two would be the same…” Cas bit his lip, he didn’t particularly fancy feeling the way Dean was – it certainly didn’t look pleasant.

            “Is there nothing you can do to make it go away?” Dean shook his head.

            “Just wait till it passes…” Dean forced his words out, “I hope soon…”

            “Is it not getting any better?” Cas felt the wash of helplessness as Dean shook his head again.

            “Worse…” He muttered, “I really…” Dean started, but he wasn’t able to finish; he was convulsing again, his mouth clamped tightly shut. After a few seconds of him fighting against an urge, he took several shaky breaths and spoke again: “Really feel sick.”

            “Wouldn’t it be better just to give into it?” Cas suggested, and to his surprise Dean whimpered – very much like a wounded animal or a small, lost child.

            “Yeah – but… don’t want to…” He answered brokenly, his breathing rattly and erratic. “Have to though… can’t fight it…” He seemed to have repositioned himself he moved closer to the toilet – almost hugging the toilet bowl – with his head hanging over it. Cas waited, not sure whether he should do anything to comfort Dean – or try to put him at ease, but he wasn’t sure what he could do in this situation anyway. Dean was breathing heavily, but his body clearly had no intention of making him feel better any time soon. Cas could see the muscles in Dean’s back jerking wildly, and he was heaving; he had raised himself up – so he wasn’t sitting back on his heels, but leaning up over the toilet. It was wise that he had moved, because after a second Dean lurched forwards uncontrollably and vomited.

            Dean had been correct – it wasn’t a pretty sight, and the sound of the contents of Dean’s stomach hitting the inside of the toilet bowl repulsed Cas… but he reminded himself that if that was the manner in which _he_ felt at witnessing Deanthrowing up, then Dean must be feeling ten times worse because he was going through it. It seemed to go on for an age; every time Dean stopped vomiting, he took a few breaths and another wave hit him, causing him to pitch forward and expel more sick. Cas could see that all of Dean’s body was struggling, fighting against the sickness – he could see the muscles in Dean’s back fluttering and his abdomen tensing involuntarily as he continued to throw up.

            At least ten minutes must have passed until Dean stopped vomiting, and even then he hung limply onto the toilet, as though it was the only thing holding him upright; still heaving but with nothing else inside of him to bring up. A stroke of pain hit Cas as he saw tears running down Dean’s face; Dean was trembling violently, and his grip on the toilet was slackening, he looked incredibly weak.

            “Dean? I… um… do you want some water?” Cas asked, again not sure what to do; Dean nodded minutely. Cas gilled it up with water from the tap; he bent down in front of Dean, but Dean was so weak that he couldn’t get a grip on the cup. Cas placed his hand gently round the back of Dean’s neck, supporting his head and helping him take a sip of water from the cup, without allowing it to spill all down him. The skin that Cas could feel at the back of Dean’s neck was drenched in sweat and very warm; once Dean had taken a drink, Cas placed his hand lightly on Dean’s forehead. Dean let out another whimper as Cas’ cold fingers came into contact with the burning skin of Dean’s head. Cas took some toilet paper and ran it under the cold tap, then placed it gently on Dean’s forehead; Dean sighed as the cold damp towel rested on his head. “Are you feeling any better?”

            “Not really…” Dean’s voice was croaky, possibly strained from the amount he had just thrown up.

            “If there’s anything you want, or need, I’ll get it for you…” Cas informed Dean, who nodded slightly, then closed his eyes and rested his head against the bathroom wall. Cas sat across from Dean in the small bathroom, watching him intently, and occasionally asking him if he needed anything. Dean seemed to float in and out of verbal consciousness, not quite managing to fall asleep, but still getting some rest. Only once more was he overcome with a wave of sickness, but there was very little inside of him that he could bring up, besides bile. Cas watched, hoping that the rest that Dean was getting was enough to make him feel better…

            Cas couldn’t gauge the passing of time, there was no clock in the bathroom, and he didn’t want to leave Dean to find out. So when a knock came on the door, Cas jumped in surprise; knowing that it only could be Sam he shuffled away from the door so Sam could get in. Sam opened the door and a blast of cold air rushed in from the bedroom.

            “Whoa…” Sam wrinkled his nose at the smell, which Cas had become accustomed to. “What’s going on?” Cas could see Sam’s eyes roving over the situation, taking in Dean’s pale and huddled figure and Cas across from him.

            “Dean’s sick.” Cas answered Sam, who had dropped to his knees in front of Dean and had his hand upon Dean’s forehead. It appeared that Dean was too out of it to even realise that Sam was there. “I’ve been looking after him.”

            “How sick is he?” Sam asked quickly, he was tapping on Dean’s cheek, trying to rouse him to consciousness. “He’s been puking, yes? How long has he been like this? Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

            “Dean told me not to.” Cas replied, feeling annoyed that he was now being told off for doing what Dean had asked him; Sam clucked loudly.

            “Dean’s an idiot most of the time… especially when he’s sick.” Sam told Cas, but then was interrupted by a groan which came from Dean.

            “I’m not an idiot…” Dean said weakly, his eyes flickered and opened.

            “You are an idiot for not waking me up.” Sam reprimanded him.

            “Didn’t need… to wake you up…” Dean protested, “Cas was looking after me fine.” Cas beamed, feeling glad that Dean thought he had been helping. “I’m – I’m tired… please, let me sleep?”

            “Let’s get you into bed and get you comfy first Dean.” Sam insisted, “Cas give me a hand.” Sam had secured his hand underneath Dean’s arm, Cas mirrored him; and the two of them pulled Dean to his feet – guiding him into the bedroom. “You need to stay on your side Dean.” Sam helped Dean to lie on the bed.

            “I’ll just get some sleep, then we can go…” Dean said, closing his eyes.

            “We’ll stay here until you feel better.” Cas responded automatically; Dean moved slightly, trying to make himself comfortable – a small smile on his face now.

            “Thanks Cas…” He mumbled sleepily, before lapsing into a peaceful looking slumber. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this, I'd love to hear what you think of it! :)


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